There was something surreal in entering the Great Hall once more.
Everything was much the same; the ceiling still reflected the night sky, hundreds, if not thousands of candles hung suspended in mid-air, eager students sat at tables... and yet, there was an unmistakable air of uncommon anticipation present in the air. Albus realised with a start that this was because of him.
Hundreds of little faces gawked at the first years as they crossed the Great Hall, most staring up at the ceiling with awe, Albus among them. It was very hard not to think back to his own Sorting almost a hundred years ago. The sky above them was glittering with stars - already a contrast to his own Sorting, as he remembered quite clearly that it had been pouring rain that day.
Turning his gaze back to the Head Table at which sat the teachers, Albus cocked his head to the side as he regarded them in a completely different light. It was odd to see Minerva sitting at what would have usually been his chair. The seat directly to her right was empty - Filius would return there as soon as the Sorting was over.
Said Charms professor was standing right next to the stool, atop which sat the Hat.
"Good evening," Minerva said, unmistakably casting a sonorous charm on herself. In an instant, all chatter in the Hall ceased and all heads were turned in her direction. Albus allowed himself a small, fond smile. Minerva had always had the skill to silence anyone with simply her voice and stern gaze.
"To our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! nother year full of magical education awaits you..." Minerv tarted. Her gaze swept over the entire student body in that ster way of hers. He had no doubt that she was an impeccable Headmistress.
"I am sure you are all very impatient to begin our banquet." She turned her meaningful gaze at the Gryffindor Table which was known for their excessive consumption of food and parties. "So without further ado, let the Sorting begin!"
Minerva gave Filius a prompting nod and sat down elegantly. Albus had the sudden realisation that she very much belonged in the place where she now sat. A man leaned over to her to whisper something and with a start, Albus recognised him. Horace Slughorn was a professor at Hogwarts again?! Anxiously looking to and fro, trying to recognise the other faces, he saw no stern-looking man with greasy locks of hair and dark, serious eyes. Where was Severus?
"I've done this job for centuries
On every student's head l've sat
Of thoughts I take inventories
For I am the famous Sorting Hat
Perhaps in Slytherin do you belong
Cunning and ambition must you have
Pure of blood as the legend goes
So put me on and let me see If Slytherin is your house to be Or maybe in Hufflepuff will you attain
A calling just true to you
Within the kitchens beneath the dome
Will you be lucky to find
Another House away from Home
Ravenclaws as studious as they may be
Value intelligence above all else
In their books they find much leisure and etched upon the diadem is this phrase:
Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure
Chivalrous and brave should you be
If in the House of the Griffin do you belong
Crimson and Gold will you wear
Proud and honest will you stand
If in Gryffindor do you land
So put me on if you dare
Perhaps loyalty or cunning do you possess Or courage or intelligence are your traits
Regardless of which Hogwarts House is yours
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will always be your home."
Raucous applause exploded once the Hat had finished his song. It tipped the tip of his head a few times to bow at them all. Albus found himself clapping along with the entire student body; he so enjoyed it's poems!
"A Hat!" Ronald Weasley whispered to himself. "I'm gonna kill Fred and George," he mumbled a little more quietly.
"Didn't they say it was going to be a troll?" Neville Longbottom whispered back a little timidly. Miss Granger, who had spent this entire time lecturing to Padma Patil on how the ceiling was the way it was, rolled her eyes at Ronald.
"You didn't honestly believe that, did you?" She said a little haughtily.
Albus chuckled a little at their antics.
Blaise Zabini shushed him.
"... Now, when I call your names," Filius was saying. He was now holding the hat in one hand and a scroll with names in another. "You will come forth and the Sorting Hat will sort you into your houses."
"Abbott, Hannah!" The timid young girl scrambled up to the hat, gazing at all of them anxiously. The hat dropped over her eyes and a few seconds later it yelled out a loud 'HUFFLEPUFF!"
Susan Bones and Terry Boot were sorted into Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw respectively. A Lavender Brown was the first Gryffindor to be sorted and received a loud cheer. Vincent Crabbe was sent to Slytherin and Michael Corner to Hufflepuff. The Sorting was happening exactly at it had last time until something very extraordinary happened
In an odd turn of events, Neville Longbottom took several more minutes than he had the first time and was then sorted into Hufflepuff. With a cheery smile, the young man jumped off the stool and stumbled over to the table that greeted him heartily. Albus wondered why the Hat's decision had changed this time around. Had he made an impact on the young man?
The beady-eyed Pansy Parkinson was swiftly sorted into Slytherin and then-
"Potter, Harry!"
In an instant, the cheering quieted and the whispers began. As Albus made his way towards the hat, he caught a few snatches of conversation:
"... Harry Potter - the Harry Potter?!"
"... thought he was six feet..."
"... his eyes... oh, they're so beautiful Meryl..."
"... overrated, if you ask me..."
"... Lockhart can't top that smile..."
Albus smiled genially at everyone staring at him and automatically nodded at a few people he knew to be Aurors and such in the future.
A seventh year Nymphadora Tonks was amongst them. She was sporting wonderful sky-blue hair this evening.
Approaching Filius, Albus bowed his head in greeting and sat upon the stool. He had a second to view the entire student body before him, before the hat dropped over his eyes.
" Interesting... very interesting," was the first comment he heard.
" Pray, do tell," Albus replied in a dry tone. The Hat hummed and continued digging through Albus' mind. He allowed some of his Occlumency Barriers to fall to allow the Hat access to his memories.
Some, darker and more tainted memories remained behind iron clad gates of steel.
"Albus Dumbledore from the past... is Harry Potter, my my," the hat continued sifting through his memories. Some of the most prominent ones were of Dudley and himself doing various activities together.
You do seem to know how to get into trouble, Albus, " the Hat commented cheerfully. Albus shrugged with one shoulder. " And when you do, in occasion, get into trouble, it is very deep trouble that you get into. " Albus almost had the urge to roll his eyes.
" Very pleased to see you too, Hat," Albus replied. He could almost feel the Hat's eye-roll in his mind.
"To business, " the Hat began, now a tad more serious." You have undoubtedly seen the changes already. "
"My alternative's death and Severus' absence, to only name a few. "
"Exactement, " the Hat said in a terrible parody of a French accent.
(Albus heard a loud, disapproving harrumph from the Hat at his comment - after all, the Hat was in his head this very moment.)
" Snape-"
"Professor Snape, " Albus interrupted automatically.
" - Snape, " the Hat said pointedly, causing Albus to actually roll his eyes at the pettiness. " Retreated back from public life after your alternative's death. He never taught at Hogwarts. Instead, he now writes potions textbooks. " The Hat's tone of voice heavily implied that he disapproved of this decision, particularly now that he had Albus' memories of a different life wherein the man had become a professor.
Albus sighed sorrowfully; he had come to love Severus as a sort of son. His decisions had often led him from the path of moral goodness, but in his heart, the man was truly a hero. His ultimate show of loyalty to Albus had made itself shown upon the the Astronomy Tower when Severus struck him down with the Killing Curse.
He wondered where Severus' loyalties now lay. The man had, after years and year, found it within him to forgive Albus for not properly protecting Lily and her son. He wondered whether Severus would find it within himself to forgive him now.
" I distinctly remember Mr. Longbottom being Sorted into Gryffindor, " Albus stated. The Sorting Hat made a hum that resembled a garbled
'indeed?' and he proceeded to sort through Albus' memories of the alternate Sorting of the year of 1991.
"Oh, so it seems. Mr. Longbottom was a Gryffindor. Why ever did I do that?" The Hat seemed genuinely perplexed.
"Oh well," the Hat continued. " We must move on with your Sorting, dear Albus. " The 'dear' was spoken with such sarcasm that Albus was almost reminded of Severus.
" Indeed, we must, " Albus replied somewhat blandly. The Hat had always been able to bring out his less favourable side. He supposed that was its whole purpose, in a way.
The Hat shuffled through his memories, murmuring soft noises to himself. Sometimes of interest, sometimes of disgust. When it finally reached the tall gates that secured Albus' most terrifying memories, the Hat snorted in disapproval.
"My opinion of you won't change because of your memories, " the Hat said snottily. Albus swallowed heavily as he tried not to think of the memories that were held under lock and key behind those metaphorical gates.
"It is not your opinion I fear."
There was a long moment of silence while the Hat contemplated
Albus words.
"You fear the temptation to power that those memories will ignite within you, should you reveal them to anyone else, " the Hat said in an uncommonly serious tone. Albus winced slightly. Nail, head - that sort of thing. Again, the Hat hummed.
"Not very Slytherin of you to be conscious of such a temptation... not very Gryffindor either, " the Hat continued musing. Albus began wondering whether his Sorting would ever be over.
" Certainly studious enough... however... " the Hat trailed off. " If we Sort you on the basis of your values instead of what traits you possess, which I suppose this late in your life is of more importance, you can only be... HUFFLEPUFF !"
The Hat was taken off his head and Albus had to blink a few times and wait for his eyes to adjust to the bright light in the Great Hall before they zeroed on the Hufflepuff table that was cheering without abandon. The Hall had broken out in whispers. Albus could only imagine what they were saying: Harry Potter, a Hufflepuff?
He thanked Filius with a smile and a twinkle in his eye and cheerfully walked over to the Hufflepuff table. He received a few slaps on the back and a few more cheers before Filius was forced to quiet them all down.
"Very glad to have you in our house, Potter!" said an older-looking boy sitting a few seats over. Albus recognised him as the Hufflepuff fifth year Prefect, Gabriel Truman.
"I am very glad to be here," Albus replied brightly and instantly was greeted with various warm smiles.
"Me gran will be so disappointed," Neville whispered to him. He was gazing at his lap sadly. Albus, who had sat down next to him and across Ms. Abbott, placed a placating hand on his shoulder.
"She will be proud of whomever you turn out to be. Hufflepuff is just as great as any other house."
"Hear hear!" exclaimed a young Cedric Diggory as he raised his glass high into the air prompting a few other Hufflepuffs to shush him so as not to disturb the Sorting ceremony.
"I'm Susan Bones," said the awkward red-headed girl. Albus inclined his head in greeting.
"She and I grew up together-" the young man next to Ms Bones said with a grin. "I'm Wayne Hopkins and that's Justin Finch-Fletchley."
"Ernest," another boy introduced himself. They all exchanged how-do-you-dos.
"Zabini, Blaise," Filius called loudly. The last first year standing in the middle of the Hall, gracefully, with that air of aristocracy sat down on the stool and was quickly proclaimed to be a Slytherin.
The feast began with the customary moans of pleasure and gasps of shock from the muggleborn students. Albus eagerly loaded his plate with wonderful culinary masterpieces... oh how he had missed the food at Hogwarts!
"I knew Potter'd be a 'Puff - I told you didn't I Marta," the Fat Friar said loudly, approaching the end of the Hufflepuff table at which Albus sat. On his arm hung one of the three Gloomy Nuns that resided at Hogwarts.
"You never said anything of the sort," Marta retorted causing some giggles to erupt at their table. Albus allowed himself a small smile.
"Now see Harry - can I call you that? - I hear you grew up with muggles?" Anthony Goldstein said, disdain colouring his features.
Albus frowned lightly, he hadn't thought that hate of muggles had been so prominent during Harry's career at Hogwarts. It seemed, he had been somewhat out-of-touch with his own students.
"Yes I did. My aunt and my cousin, both muggle," he said joyously.
Goldstein pursed his lips and turned away to talk to Neville.
"It's all very odd isn't it? Talking hats, flying candles - even ghosts!" Justin exclaimed. Albus remembered that they boy was muggleborn.
This was probably a large culture-shock for him.
"Wait 'till you see Quidditch," Ernie Macmillan said with a laugh.
"Quidditch?" Justin said wearily, testing out the word. Ernie launched into a long description of the game, captivating Hannah Abbott's attention too.
"Are you any good at flying, Harry?" Susan asked awkwardly. Albus smiled encouragingly at her.
"Muggle-raised I'm afraid. No flying there." They left it at that.
The feast proceeded in a similar fashion; the first years exchanged names, stories and experiences of the magical world so far. The older years weren't shy in giving them advice about various teachers or subjects.
(" Watch out for Slughorn - you don't want to be invited to one of his parties!")
And once their bellies were full, and their throats watered, Minerva finally stood and bid them all good night. With enthusiasm and cheerfulness, the large group of 'Puffs, followed the Prefects (Gabriel Truman and Bridget Wenlock) down to the basement of the school - right next to the kitchens.
"Congratulations! I'm prefect Gabriel Truman, and I'm delighted to welcome you to HUFFLEPUFF HOUSE!" the young man exclaimed.
Bridget promptly introduced herself.
"Our house is that of loyalty and hard workers," Bridget continued.
"You'll find that we do not impose any rules on our own, like the Slytherin house or the Ravenclaws. Enjoy Hogwarts and benefit from it as much as you can!"
"Now, to the entrance," Gabriel said with a conspiratorial grin. He glanced around theatrically, as though trying to spot a non-Hufflepuff lurking about.
"The entrance to the common room is located in a nook on the right hand side of the kitchen corridor, concealed behind that stack of barrels." He gestured at the little Hobbit-like alcove.
"In order to reveal the entrance, no password is required. Instead, one must tap the barrel two from the bottom, middle of the second row, in the rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff', which will make the lid swing open, exposing a passageway that will lead to the basement when crawled through," Bridget said. She pulled out her wand and performed the movements and a door was revealed. "Like so!"
"However," Gabriel now spoke with a vindictive glint in his eye. "If the wrong lid is tapped or the wrong rhythm is used, the intruder will be doused in vinegar and barred access."
The first years exchanged anxious glances.
"Shall we?"
The small group of first years crawled through the passage ways and into the Hufflepuff common room.
It was round and earthy and low-ceilinged; it felt sunny, and its circular windows had a view of rippling grass and dandelions. There was a lot of burnished copper about the place, and many plants, which either hung from the ceiling or sat on the windowsills. The warm light suffused the place with the feeling of home and welcoming. Overstuffed sofas and chairs upholstered in yellow and black littered the areas. Small study tables were already covered with books. And along the curved walls, stood majestic bookshelves with fiction books. It looked very much like what one would imagine a Hobbit's home looked like.
"The Hufflepuff Common room!" Gabriel announced. Various other students had arrived already and they were smiling the group of first years, eagerly waving them in.
"Now remember, your House is like your family, and will be so for the next seven years. our Head of House, Professor Pomona Sprout, is Head of Herbology: if you have any questions, she's available at any time, simply tell that portrait there (Bridget gestured at a portrait of a wizened old wizard) that you need help, and she'll come. Girl's dormitories on the left and boys on the right, any questions?"
Very quickly the students dispersed to their various dorms and Albus was left standing in the Common room. As he stood there, he realised how correct the Hat had been in Sorting him in this house.
In his previous life, he had been somewhat more prideful and chivalrous. He had been brave without inhibition. Gryffindor had been his perfect fit. However, as he looked at the various students littering the room and the overall warmth with which he had been greeted, he realised that this was the perfect little place for a tired old man who by now dreamt only of love, loyalty, family and friends.
"Mummy - a letter! From Harry!" Dudley cried as he crossed the threshold into Number Four. He held an envelope sealed with a wax sigil high above his head. Just before the door closed behind him, Petunia, who had been dusting the photographs in the hallway, caught sight of a flash of fire. No doubt, Fawkes.
"He promised to write every week," Petunia said with a small shrug Dudley deposited his school rucksack in the little alcove under the stairs. He cracked the seal and pulled out a long letter written in emerald ink and with Harry's incredibly mature and spidery handwriting.
"Well go on, read it!" Petunia said with a laugh as she turned to her son, hands on her hips.
"Dear Dudley (and of course, Aunt Petunia)," Dudley read aloud, lips already stretching into a smile.
"You must forgive me for not writing earlier. The last two days have been so hectic I felt as though I had been placed in a children's daycare of sorts! Oh, Dudley, you would love it here: the taste of magic in the air, the castle, the other students, and the teachers... it
is all so magnificent! I miss you dearly, cousin dearest and I wish you were here to experience all of this alongside me.
Upon arriving at Hogwarts, I was sorted into the warmest House of them all, right below the kitchens, we have almost exclusive access to our occasional midnight cocoa! I think you would do well in this House as well.
Our classes, whilst fascinating and extremely engaging, are tough (Petunia gave a disbelieving cough. Harry never found anything
'tough'). My professors do not shy away from giving us assignments that keep me up until late at night, writing essays on this or that theory. I share my rooms with various other students, but Neville Longbottom in particular seems to understand my thirst for knowledge and he has taken to discussing various topics of that fashion with me.
Fawkes is immensely happy to finally be able to fly free and simultaneously be by my side. He very much likes stealing bacon from other students' plates - fortunately they have not yet figured out to whom they should complain!
I trust Smeltings has been an interesting experience so far? Have you gotten in trouble all ready? I hope not. Are you doing your homework?" The next few questions inquired his wellbeing and his progress in school and in his karate lessons. An adorable little blush had even started to develop over Dudley's rosy cheeks.
"I love you, dear cousin. Lots of love to you and Petunia, Harry. " There was a second letter tucked in the envelope, addressed only to Petunia. She quickly tucked it into her pocket, eager to shake off Dudley's interest in it. The boy sighed and trudged into the kitchen for his supper. Petunia smiled after him, as her thoughts turned to her nephew and she wondered where this family would be, had it not been for Harry's interference all those years ago.
Have I mentioned how much I love writing Albus? That's probably the reason I have started writing another Albus-centric fanfiction. It's called Cassandra's Gift and it's about Harry and Albus' friendship that develops when Harry, a seasoned professor of DADA appears in the past (1944) and befriends Albus and Flamel. I think it's my most original work so far... and I actually have a well thought out plan for it.
In any case, I apologise for the long wait between chapters; I was a little busy with my school film club (of which I am - was - the head), my graduation from school, and applications to university. Currently, I am venting my frustrations by writing an abundance of fanfictions as I try to cope with the panic of finding a flat. I have about two more weeks until University starts and I have not yet found a flat. HALP.
Also, the sorting hat's song was written by moi (except the first four lines) and features in Cassandra's Gift as well (huh, I'm not going to write two sorting hat songs... !). I'm just that creative Imao